


We Should Have Sex

by ds9trekkie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Bottom Jack Kline, Boys Kissing, Bunker Sex, Coming Inside, Coming Untouched, Cuddling & Snuggling, Daddy Dom Sam Winchester, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Dubious Consent, Father/Son Incest, First Time, Frottage, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Hiatus, Incest Kink, Innocent Jack Kline, Kissing, Little Boy Jack Kline, Loss of Innocence, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Mutual Pining, Naked Cuddling, One Shot, Oral Sex, Pining, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Self-Hatred, Size Kink, Smut, Sort Of, Top Sam Winchester, Underage Drinking, Underage Sex, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-19 22:21:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19365025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ds9trekkie/pseuds/ds9trekkie
Summary: Automatic and inappropriate, Sam snakes his arm around Jack’s skinny waist for the fourth night that week. It’s something unspoken, a routine that blossomed from the mutual darkness kept hidden inside both of them. Sleep never comes easy when you’re a Winchester, but Sam finds that when Jack is pressed up against him all warm and soft, his eyelids droop and his muscles relax.





	We Should Have Sex

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wayward_Daughter_16](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wayward_Daughter_16/gifts).



> This little bit of filth has been sitting in my trash can for a few months. But hiatus has me going crazy so here ya go! Please read the tags carefully for potential triggers, this ones pretty intense. Also, Jack is human during this time.

The first time Jack asks Sam to have sex with him is on a random Friday night while brushing their teeth.

“Sam, we should have sex...”Jack states nonchalantly through the minty suds in his mouth, “I believe it would be most enjoyable.”

Earlier that evening they had finally caught up on watching the newest Star Wars movie, _Solo._ Both of them too busy conversing about the story to say good night and go their separate ways.

They end up in the bathroom like this most nights. Time seems to move at an accelerated speed when Jack’s with Sam, it’s never enough. The days always feel cut short, so much left to say and do. They click so well together, whether they’re laughing until tears begin falling or if they’re pushing each other’s limits during combat training. They connect on a level Jack hasn’t yet experienced with another person.

That’s why Jack craves more. He craves a physically intimate relationship with Sam, one that builds onto the already strong and beautiful bond they share.

“Wha-what?!” Sam chokes out, spitting into the sink and keeping his head down, avoiding Jack’s eyes.

“I said we should—“

“—No, I heard you...I just...” Sam finally looks up at him, his expression clearly uncomfortable. There’s a heavy pause, the silence long and painful.

“You don’t want me,” Jack realizes, failing to hide the shakiness in his voice. Sam’s reaction hurts, Jack didn’t really consider the consequences of rejection.

“No, it’s not like that—,“ Sam cuts himself off, taking a deep breath and starting over. “Jack, look I’m _flattered_...but it would be really inappropriate for us to do...anything like that.”

Jack is barely registering the explanation, he’s too distracted by the fierce pink color that’s creeping up onto Sam’s cheeks. His body betrays his stern, calm words, causing Sam to appear flustered.

“Are you listening to me?”

“Yes,” Jack nods.

“Good,” Sam confirms, grabbing a nearby towel to dry his hands. “You understand why it would be inappropriate?”

Attempting to think logically on the subject for a moment, he answers with, “My age.”

Jack wants to roll his eyes, but he refrains. Being ‘too young’ is a very annoying thing that always seems to stop him from enjoying, well, pretty much just about everything he’s curious to explore.

Sam is good at hiding things, but Jack is learning, picking up on small nuances that might have previously gone unnoticed. There’s definitely a trace of sadness masked behind Sam’s relief.

“You’re just a kid...” Sam confirms, turning to give Jack his full attention. “You’re kinda _my_ kid.“ 

Jack just stares at him as two drastically conflicting emotions whirl through him. He hates Sam’s excuse, he hates that it’s the reason keeping them apart. Jack has the urge to remind Sam that they’re not actually related and society would have nothing to complain about, but instead something else entirely comes out of his mouth.

“I love being yours.”

Neither of them have an ounce of an idea of what to say after that, however Sam looks like he’s about to have a full blown panic attack.

Breathing out a nervous laugh and murmuring, “Fuck,” Sam’s eyes skitter anywhere and everywhere that’s not Jack.

Jack suddenly forgets why he’s supposed to be upset, he forgets all about the lousy feeling of rejection and shame, because everything just changed. Sam’s initial negative reaction was only in order to hide how he truly feels. Because he _does_ want Jack and he’s fighting it hard. It’s so obvious now, so plain and simple that Jack almost feels _smug._ He suppresses a smirk while Sam tries to hide the flush in his face and the tenting in his pants.

“I’m sorry,” Jack starts, his voice laced with tenacity. Gathering his few belongings off the counter, he adds, “I don’t want anything to change or get...weird, let’s just forget it.”

Sam sputters in response, attempting to salvage the conversation but failing miserably.

“Good night, Sam.”

Jack doesn’t wait to hear Sam struggle with more words, leaving the older man standing there confused and hopelessly aroused.

~

Sam is totally fucked. Staring up at the ceiling, he lays in bed, trying to ignore the pounding in his head and the unforgiving swelling of his traitorous dick. Two weeks have passed since that night in the bathroom and Sam is a wreck.

The flood gates are open, Jack managed to stir up all of Sam’s sick and twisted fantasies in less than two minutes. Reality has never been so daunting and Sam doesn’t have a clue what to do. 

He’s been steadily avoiding Jack since, which is exactly the opposite of what he asked him to do. Sam just can’t face him, his guilt and self loathing too strong to act normal. He wishes he could block out the entire exchange and go back to being a responsible adult. He’s supposed to guide Jack, supposed to provide him with the necessary life skills to live a happy, successful life, not take advantage of his innocence.

But lately, all he does is harp on the countless sinful images that cross his mind whenever he remembers Jack’s admission.

_I love being yours._

Sam wants so badly to show Jack just how much he wants him to be truly his. He wants nothing more than to bend Jack over and ram his dick into that sweet, virgin ass. Pounding him harder and harder into the mattress until the kid can’t do anything except moan and beg for more. Sam’s been told he’s a rough fuck before, but he knows he’s never been this riled up over someone, almost afraid of his own potential.

Sam pictures the way Jack would look and feel beneath him, so small and willing. He imagines the slew of filth he would whisper into the boy’s ear, surprising even himself with some of it. But mostly, he thinks about how _good_ Jack is, how pure and bright his soul shines. Sam wants to praise, love and cherish him, ready to give Jack everything he deserves and more.

But he can’t.

So instead of jerking off again, Sam decides to snap out of his haze and take a cold shower. Afterwards he’ll seek Jack out and apologize for his behavior. Life will go back to normal and everything will be _fine._

~

The second time that Jack asks Sam to have sex with him, he’s wasted.

The television in his bedroom is blasting an obnoxious theme song that jingles along with a litany of loud beeps and whirring sounds. Jack is too drunk to remember exactly which game show is on, but he’s laughing heartily and yelling out answers nonetheless. From the moment Cas introduced him, Jack always liked gameshows, using them as a fun way to learn about humanity and pop culture. 

Jack also likes alcohol.

Sam, Dean and Cas have all tried to steer him away from it, once again fretting over his age and treating him like a child. However, tonight Jack decided to sneak into the kitchen and raid the cabinets. He originally wanted beer, but there was none in the fridge so he settled for whiskey. Nearly gagging on his first swig, he snagged a bottle of orange juice and decided he would use that to force it all down. Still disgusting, Jack plowed through the bad taste, needing to know what the hype behind being intoxicated is all about. He also grabbed a bag of pretzels for good measure.

It must be something worth trying if people keep doing it, plus it would really piss off Sam if he found out. 

Upset doesn’t even cover a fraction of what he’s feeling towards Sam. He feels betrayed, _abandoned._ Sam’s avoidance hurts more than he could have ever dreamed. His heart feels like lead, a useless cold brick that only serves to weigh him down. 

Perhaps he truly misread the situation and Sam doesn’t want him like that. His short lived plan of loosening Sam up slips further and further away with each day they don’t speak. Whatever the case, he wishes they could just go back to normal. He misses spending quality time with Sam.

He misses his Dad.

Jack barely hears the knock at his door, the sound muffled in the midst of chaos coming from the television.

“Jack!” Sam’s voices calls, knocking louder this time.

Jack freezes when a wave of anxiety crashes down on him. He simultaneously wanted this to happen, however now that it is, he wishes Sam would just go away. Emotions are strange.

“Yeah?” Jack replies, fumbling with the remote.

“Can I come in?” Sam shouts at the exact moment Jack finds the mute button.

Jack jumps off the bed, tripping over his slippers as he attempts to hide the alcohol under his bed. “Yeah.”

When Sam enters, Jack instantly feels heat blossom onto his own cheeks. Sam is too gorgeous and Jack has no self control at the moment. He instantly forgets his anger, and rushes in for a hug.

“Sam...I missed you,” Jack whines, pressing himself as near as he can get.

Sam naturally pulls him in closer for a brief moment before stepping back, allowing them both only a blip of comfort.

“Hey, hey, look at me,” Sam insists and Jack does. “Are you...drunk?” he asks, studying Jack for a few seconds.

“Nope,” he chuckles, trying to remember what being sober is like. “I’m _very_ drunk.”

Concern flashes across Sam’s face, but Jack cuts him off before the lecture can begin. “Shh, don’t worry about that.” He takes Sam’s hand and leads him further inside, his one track mind not leaving any room for thoughts other than getting Sam into his bed. 

“We should have sex,” Jack giggles, flopping down dramatically.

Sam sighs in exasperation and wrestles with Jack for a few minutes until he’s had some water and is tucked safely beneath the covers. The only thing that finally works is when Sam agrees to stay until Jack falls asleep.

Within minutes Jack is passed out on Sam’s chest with his mouth a fraction open, exhausted and dead to the world. Sam has one arm wrapped loosely around him, the other safely attached to the bed beside him. Not touching anything more than necessary. Logically, he knows should leave now, but he convinces himself that if he moves he’ll wake Jack and have to start at square one.

So Sam tries to sleep, promising himself that this is a one time thing. Cuddling with Jack is a slippery slope, one he cannot afford to snowball down. His gut instinct is screaming at him, _this only ends badly._ Instead he blocks it out, choosing to listen to the soft thudding of Jack’s heart atop his own. Eventually he drifts off, worry and contentment warring within him.

~

Automatic and inappropriate, Sam snakes his arm around Jack’s skinny waist for the fourth night that week. It’s something unspoken, a routine that blossomed from the mutual darkness kept hidden inside both of them. Sleep never comes easy when you’re a Winchester, but Sam finds that when Jack is pressed up against him all warm and soft, his eyelids droop and his muscles relax.

It feels so _good._

The lamp is dim, providing only barely a glow. Jack fidgets, which causes him to push his backside further into Sam’s crotch. It lights Sam up faster than a cigarette and it _shouldn’t._ He shouldn’t even be in this bed, a promise which he failed to keep, let alone be fighting an erection.

Jack hums when he feels Sam get hard and Sam squeezes him closer in response. This is as far as they’ve ever gotten, cocks aching and some gentle grinding. They’ve never used hands, they’ve never kissed. Sam is happily deluding himself that those actions would cross some kind of line, that what they’re doing isn’t already ten steps past crazy.

“Sam,” Jack whines, twisting his head to make eye contact.

“Shh, go to sleep,” Sam hushes him, they‘re _not_ talking about this.

“Saaaam,” Jack repeats, starting to wiggle his hips a little more prominently.

Sam really doesn’t need to ask Jack ‘what’, the answer is written all over the flush in his face and the ink in his eyes, but he has to say something. “What?”

“I feel you...I know you’re aroused.” 

The words hit Sam like a bucket of ice. Humiliation coarses through him, yet there’s no denying the fact that his dick is getting harder. Before he can begin to contemplate a reply Jack continues lowly, “It’s okay, you know I—I am too.”

Sam can’t control the growl that slips out, nor can he control the sharp thrust of his hips forward. His cock nestles snugly between Jack’s ass cheeks, the boy’s pajamas thin and loose. Sam hides his face in Jack’s neck, not trusting himself to look at him anymore. “This—we can’t,” Sam says and it’s almost laughable how cliché he sounds.

“Why not?” Jack challenges, angling his head to allow Sam more access to his neck. “I want you, please...”

Sam wants to cry, out of all the fucked up shit he’s done in his life this might be the winner, the thing that finally damns his soul for good. He fought this so hard for so long and now he’s about to throw it all away.

“Want me to do what?” If they’re doing this, Jack needs to say the words out loud. “Tell me, Jack...tell me exactly what you want,” his voice rough.

“I want you to touch me,” Jack whispers and something inside Sam breaks a little more.

Fingers springing to life of their own accord, Sam cautiously maps out the clothed expanse of Jack’s chest and torso. “More,” Jack tempts him, physically guiding Sam’s hand beneath his plain white tee.

“Fuck,” Sam finds his target. Already semi peaked, Jack’s nipple continues to harden beautifully under Sam’s volition. He plays with the stiff bud in awe, rubbing and tweaking until Jack is squirming. Sam groans when he thinks about how huge his hand feels on Jack’s body, a constant reminder of how petite the kid is. 

Sam is absolutely petrified to utter another word, dead set on suppressing all the filth that pops into his brain. Luckily for him, Jack keeps doing most of the talking and persuading, “Go...lower.”

Sam does, his hand trembling slightly as he moves. Down past his belly button and all the way to the waistband of Jack’s pants. “Under,” Jack peeps, his voice unnaturally higher than before.

Sam’s mental strength slips even further away, the desire to touch and sense overwhelming him. When he takes hold of Jack’s cock, both of them moan from the skin on skin contact. 

“Sam!” Jack is a mess, immediately rutting into Sam’s grip with little to no coordination. “That feels _amazing_...”

Sam grunts, pumping Jack a little faster, a little rougher. His own dick aches jealously, in need of more friction than he’s currently getting.

“Ahh,” Jack cries, his velvety little cock leaking tiny pearls of pre-come.

“Already makin’ such a mess,” Sam husks out, finally remembering how to form a sentence. He enthusiastically coats Jack’s entire length with his own wetness, reveling in the feel of it and wondering what the taste would be like.

“Kiss me,” Jack practically chokes, daring Sam to tear down that last paper-thin wall between them.

He doesn’t hesitate.

Sam flips the boy over so they’re laying on their sides facing one another, Jack’s lithe form easy to maneuver. A shred of decency must still be alive inside Sam because he stops at the last second, he has to be sure this is what Jack truly wants.

Cupping Jack’s face between his hands, Sam leaves their lips mere inches apart, “We really shouldn’t do this. You’re way too young...much younger than you look. It’s wrong.” 

Apparently prepared for this argument, Jack’s eyes glint, his innocence fading fast. Because the next two words out of the kid’s mouth cause one of the most nerve wracking moment of Sam’s life.

“Please...Daddy.”

Sam nearly faints, his heart hammering nauseatingly fast. “Wha—” 

He looks a tad shy now, Jack’s usual lack of understanding societal norms is nowhere to be found. He knows exactly what he said and what it meant. He must have watched porn or something, because Sam can’t imagine where else Jack could have learned about that stuff.

“Uhh,” Jack starts, but Sam doesn’t care anymore, the energy between them is palpable and validating enough. Rolling on top of Jack, Sam lowers his mouth for a claiming kiss. Baby soft and pristine, Jack’s lips taste like fresh morning dew. He greedily welcomes Sam’s tongue, naturally opening up for him while whimpering tiny sounds of pleasure. Sam boxes Jack in, covering him completely with his large frame so their cocks line up perfectly, throbbing and begging for attention.

Panic suddenly halts the animal within Sam, “Hold up...” he pants, inhaling a few deep breaths of fresh oxygen. It’s a dismal aid in clearing his mind, but Sam didn’t really except much. “We can’t tell anyone,” he forces out.

It takes Jack a few seconds to open his eyes and to calm his breathing as well. Jack slowly observes him in a way that freakishly reminds Sam of Castiel, which also means that he takes far too long to answer. Awkwardly, he finally asks, “Not even Dean and Cas?” 

Sam clams up, painfully aware of how loud they might be talking, of how sweaty they are. “Especially them...” Sam emphasizes. 

He hates lying, but this is an impossible situation. Dean and Castiel would never understand, they couldn’t. And Sam wouldn’t blame them. _This_ has to stay dead and buried, a dirty thing that can never see the light of day.

“Okay,” Jack agrees, his eyes fiery with mischievous determination. “I can keep a secret.”

Something in Sam’s brain is hard wired wrong to be so turned on by that simple statement. However, he just smiles devilishly, too far gone to feel anything but delight at Jack’s cooperation. All of Sam’s self hatred and disgust fall to the wayside, momentarily kept at bay while he indulges his inner most demons.

Capturing Jack’s mouth, the kiss tumbles into something much dirtier causing him to keep cooing sweetly against Sam’s lips. Sam takes and takes and takes, his body raging out of control.

He needs to see his boy. Carelessly tearing off his own shirt, Sam begins to help Jack do the same. The remainder of their clothing discarded, Sam gazes down at his prize. Jack is breathtaking, more stunning and delicate than he could have ever imagined. Sam needs to ruin, he needs to claim, he _needs._

Frantically thinking about the two of them, Sam kisses Jack again. Both souls tormented by Lucifer, both outcasts for their abilities. They are the same. And they deserve this small treasure life’s given them. Maybe these thoughts just serve to help justify the ugly truth of what’s really going on, but Sam doesn’t care. Not when Jack’s thrusting his hips like this, hypnotically rubbing their cocks together like some cruel spell meant to drive Sam over the edge much too early.

“You’re so good, Jack, so good,” Sam says between kisses. Jack hums into his mouth at the praise, spurring Sam on. “My good little boy...”

Jack gasps and stops moving, “Sam I feel something, I—“

“No coming yet, baby,” Sam says with a confidence he shouldn’t have, but he’s got other plans for Jack’s first orgasm. “How’d you like to come in Daddy’s mouth?”

Jack writhes in frustration, clawing at any surface of Sam he can reach. Sam uses his enthusiastic response as fuel, traveling down Jack’s hyper responsive body. Grazing past Jack’s pretty pink nipples, he sucks one at a time into his mouth with equal care and attentiveness. Jack nearly yelps at the foreign feeling, arching his back and tangling his hands in Sam’s already mussed up hair. Sam continues to nip and lick his way lower, addicted to the taste of Jack’s immaculate skin.

“Try to stay still and relax,” he instructs, eying the freely bobbing cock that’s now only centimeters from his lips.

Jack nods, his expression laser focused on Sam’s every move. Sam grins as he licks the tip, groaning with satisfaction as the salty droplets overwhelm his tastebuds. Jack bucks and cries out, nearly sending Sam into cardiac arrest.

“Jack, you have to be quiet. This is a secret, remember?”

Jack’s face is contorted with pain and desperation, but he’s quick to press his lips together, wordlessly swearing his silence. “There’s my good boy, gonna be nice and quiet while I suck your cock,” Sam rewards him with.

He returns to his task, diligently licking the head and shaft more liberally than before. Eventually, Sam engulfs him, sliding up and down Jack’s length in almost a trance like state. Sam’s muscle memory re-emerges, succumbing to the mindless bliss that is giving head. Jack’s chest heaves intensely, watching everything Sam is doing. Learning, so he can do the same to him later he’s sure.

“You can come whenever you need to, Jack, come for Daddy,” Sam says sloppily, looking up at him with conviction. “Not a sound,” he adds.

Tears escape Jack’s beautiful blue eyes as he shoots liquid warmth into Sam’s eager mouth. Proving himself, no noise slips past Jack’s full lips as he comes. Sam swallows it all hungrily, growling as the flavor floods his senses. He keeps going, elated that it’s happening, yet somehow sad that it’s ending.

As soon as Sam relinquishes him, he’s climbing back up to kiss him. Jack clings, panting wildly through the fever Sam just caused him. “Sam, Sam,” he chants as more tears cascade down his scarlet cheeks. “That was— I don’t know the word for it,” Jack tells him.

Sam feels high, ready to do it a thousand times more. Ready to please his boy for the rest of his miserable days. 

“Can we do more? There are other things that I want,” Jack continues, his voice broken and small.

“Anything,” Sam whispers immediately because his sanity is _gone._

“Fuck me, I want to know what that’s like,” Jack admits.

“Turn over,” Sam demands, his aching cock thickening agonizingly as Jack jumps to comply.

~

Fifteen minutes later, the room is sweltering and Sam has three fingers buried inside Jack’s glistening hole. How Sam hasn’t come already is a miracle, somehow finding the never ending will to hold himself together.

“Saaaaam,” Jack begs, the rippling plea pressed straight into the mattress, thankfully muffling the sound.

“Okay, little one, okay, gonna take care of you.” Sam feels blind, deaf and dizzy as he manages to slick up his own cock with some of the lube he’s been using. Lining himself up he drapes himself over Jack’s bony back. “Gonna fuck my good little boy now,” he warns, breaching Jack’s hole. Sam groans, he knows he’s on the larger side, but even fitting just the tip of his cock inside Jack is a feat.

“Oohhh,” Jack moans, noticeably tensing up.

Soothingly, Sam kisses Jack’s creamy white shoulders and neck providing him with a slight distraction. “Just relax,” Sam reassures him. When he presses in, he goes deeper and deeper until he can’t go any further.

They’re both paralyzed, stunned by the heat and chemistry their bodies are conducting. Sam doesn’t budge, giving them both some time to adjust, “Jack...Jack is this good?”

“Yes!” He hisses immediately, squirming and pushing his ass backwards. “But I believe you’re supposed to move now.”

Sam nearly laughs, Jack always so blunt and literal. “Mmm,” he replies instead, beginning to rock his hips, causing them both the smallest bit of gratification.

Second by second Sam grows a little more bold, fucking Jack just a little bit harder, a little bit faster. And Jack responds exquisitely, his own little cock swinging erratically between his legs ready for round two.

“Fuck, you’re so good,” Sam grunts, pounding him fervently. “This want you wanted, Jack? S’this what you needed?”

Jack can’t speak any longer. He can only choke and sob, drooling onto the sweat soaked sheet with every thrust of Sam’s hips. Sam is ruthless, hating himself for being so brutal, but this is what he is. Jack’s hole looks sore and puffy, deliciously angry at the intrusion and Sam can’t look away. 

“Want Daddy to fill you up? Huh, Jack? Tell me you want it.” Sam needs to hear it. Needs that last and final declaration before he looses his mind.

“Yes...Sam please...”

Sam explodes, his cock emptying itself for what must be an eternity. His grip on Jack’s hips tightens, his release so fierce he might collapse on top of him if he doesn’t hold steady enough.

“Ohh,” Jack exhales, his hole clenching down around Sam’s spent cock like a vice. It takes Sam a moment to realize Jack’s coming again, _untouched._ Sam is spinning, raw pride coursing through him something wicked.

“Holy shit,” Sam says too loudly. He slowly pulls out after a while, deliberately keeping his hands on Jack, never loosing physical contact.

“Come here,” Sam rasps, lying flat on his back and urging Jack to join him. Jack snuggles up closely, settling in just right.

Silence erodes the previous euphoria, reality setting in at what just occurred. Before Sam can sink any lower into his spiral, Jack mumbles, “I love you, Daddy...”

Sweet cold relief puts out the fire in his brain. Sam smiles and holds his boy more firmly, “Love you too, little one.”

Suddenly, Jack exclaims, “We had sex!”

They both burst into a fit of laughter, if he must, Sam will deal with Dean and Cas tomorrow. His boy was simply too good to be anything but absolutely happy right now.

“It was a wonderful sensation,” Jack continues, his voice droopy with sleep despite his excitement. “I can still feel it.”

“Mmm,” Sam replies, as a wave of possessiveness rolls over him. “You were amazing.”

He really should clean up, Sam’s not sure whether the bed or their bodies are more disgusting at the moment. But instead, Sam cards his fingers lovingly through Jack’s golden hair, unavoidable sleep about to plunge them both into the terrifying land of tomorrow.

Sam lazily closes his eyes as he thinks to himself, _damnation never felt so cleansing._


End file.
